Texan Undercover (Romantic Suspense) (15 page)

Claire walked over and took the pitcher from
him. "I don't keep coffee here. I own a cybercafé, remember? I
drink coffee and eat most of my meals there." She grabbed two small
glasses, poured the juice and handed him one. "Try the kiwi juice,
you might like it."

Dillon looked at the juice, then at Claire.
"You can't really expect me to drink this?"

Leaning against the counter, Claire lifted
her own glass and smiled. "Bottoms up."

He sipped tentatively and shuddered. "I don't
think so." He set the glass near the sink. "I'm going to take a
shower, then we'll go to work."

"You think we ought to go together? Won't we
blow your cover if we advertise our . . . relationship?"

Dillon stepped close, towering over her. He
smelled musky. Sexy. Claire's stomach toppled over.

"You go in your car. I'll follow in my truck.
I want to keep you safe, Claire." He trailed a finger along the
curve of her jaw.

"Yes, well . . . uh, thanks." She hated
having her independence restricted. She lifted her chin. "You know,
I can normally take care of myself. But I'm not used to this sort
of thing. It's most unusual."

Dillon backed her against the counter. His
eyes flared with passion. She felt his arousal press into her. He
bent so his head was even with hers. His lips only a breath away.
"Nothing about any of this is . . . normal. Or usual."

Claire was certain he was going to kiss her.
Anticipation bubbled inside. Suddenly, he pushed away. "If I don't
take that shower, we'll be late for work. Wait for me." He was gone
before she could reply.

With a trembling hand, Claire picked up her
juice and drank. She rinsed the glass and set it in the drainer.
This was ridiculous. She refused to be ruled by her hormones. And
she was tired of this whole hacker business. With the cafes to run,
there was no time for nonsense. A million things needed to be done
before the anniversary celebration and that was first on her
priority list.

After jotting a quick note to Dillon, Claire
left the condo. She told herself there wasn't any real danger. And
she and Dillon weren't having a real relationship. Therefore, he
had no authority over her. She was tired of being dictated to. All
of her life, men had been telling her what to do. Enough was
enough.

Twenty minutes later, she let herself into
e*Claire's and started the coffee pots. Richard was somewhere
because freshly baked pastries sat cooling on the counters and
several batches were rising in their pans ready to go in the ovens.
The kitchen smelled heavenly--yeast and pungent spices mixed with
the underlying fragrance of coffee beans.

Snagging a warm cinnamon bun, Claire made her
way down the hall to her office. She pushed away the uncomfortable
thought that Dillon would probably be angry with her for leaving
without him. But he wouldn't cause a scene here at the cafe for
fear of blowing his cover. And she was thankful for that. He might
have bulldozed his way into her cafe and invaded her home, not to
mention her bedroom, but she'd be damned if she'd let him run her
life. Or steal her heart completely.

****

Dillon didn't talk to Claire the entire day.
He watched her when she emerged from her office. Every time he
caught her eye, she lifted her chin in that infuriating way of
hers, then ignored him as she mingled with her customers. Dillon
felt himself getting angrier by the minute. What the hell did she
think she was doing? He'd told her she wasn't safe. That he would
protect her. Wasn't she scared? He sure the hell was. Scared for
her. He didn't know what bee had gotten in her bonnet, but promised
himself he'd find out before the day was over.

Brozek said Claire was going to work on the
system upgrades tonight. Well, she'd better make up her mind that
he was going to help, because he was damned if she was staying
alone in the cafe after hours.

Dillon would be right beside her. Helping if
she'd let him. Just watching, if not. And that wouldn't be so hard,
would it? He liked looking at Claire. Especially without clothes
on.

His body tightened when he remembered last
night. Claire in his arms. Claire beneath him in bed. Claire on
top, on the side. Beautiful, beautiful Claire.

Their lovemaking had touched something deep
inside. Dillon definitely didn't want to go there. Claire was not
the kind of woman he wanted to get involved with. Physically
involved--that was okay. Safe. But he didn't want any emotional
crap. He was going to enjoy Claire, then walk away. Go back to
Dallas. No regrets. No problem.

It was a good sound plan. He resolutely
pushed away any and all doubts.

The day oozed by. Dillon made his way from
one computer to another, downloading data from the recorders,
discreetly looking at the customers. Wondering when and if the
hacker would show his presence again. Would he send another letter?
An email? Or something more sinister?

Frustration gnawed at Dillon's gut. He wanted
to catch this guy. The sooner the better, so Claire would be safe.
He didn't want to examine the possessive feelings he harbored about
her. Never before had he felt this way about a woman. And never
before had sex been as intense as it had been with Claire.

Stop it, Anderson.
Have a good time,
then walk away.

The ringing of his cell phone cut off the
uncomfortable thoughts. He punched the button. "Yeah."

"Hey, buddy. We've got trouble." Brozek's
voice sounded edgy, excited.

"What kind of trouble?" Dillon quickly
scanned the cafe. Claire was nowhere in sight.

"Lomar Industries and Tolman Technologies
have been hacked into again. You need to see this. Pronto."

"Move the van a couple of blocks over onto
Rio Grande Street. I'll meet you in ten minutes." Dillon ended the
call. One of his wishes seemed close to being granted. He felt the
rush of adrenaline as he left the cafe. Soon. They'd catch the
hacker soon.

Making his way through the streets, Dillon
spotted the white van. Glancing around to make sure no one was
watching, he climbed in.

Monitors and buttons glowed brightly in the
dim interior of the vehicle; computers whirred and hummed. Brozek
sat at the surveillance controls pounding away. He didn't looked up
when Dillon sat down beside him.

"What's going on?" Dillon scanned the
monitors, quickly reading the output.

"Look at this." Brozek pointed to a block of
data highlighted on the screen. "Our security patch at Lomar was
by-passed early this morning. Hacker-man didn't miss a beat and
left this evil little present for them."

Dillon whistled under his breath. "I've never
seen anything like it."

"Me neither." Brozek pounded out more
commands. Another window popped up beside the first. "What about
that?"

An identical block of data appeared. "This is
Tolman's system?" Dillon asked.

"Yeah. Timed exactly like the other
incidents."

"What about K&G Research?"

Brozek looked at his watch, then tapped the
keyboard. A third window with the same block filled the monitor.
"Just like clockwork."

"Damn. Who the hell is this guy?"

Brozek leaned back in his chair. "Someone who
means business. Never seen a virus like that in the wild before.
Those systems will be down for days. That's one wicked worm he
planted."

Dillon studied the monitor. "Move over. I
want to check something."

Brozek wheeled his chair out of the way.
Dillon took his place and typed several commands on the keyboard,
then whistled under his breath. "Well, what do you know?"

Brozek scooted his chair closer. "What is
it?"

"Hold on a minute." Dillon punched in another
string of commands and watched as a small terminal window popped
up. The message was short and succinct.

Going out with a bang. Taking her with
me.

Dillon stared at the monitor. The hairs on
the back of his neck stood straight up.

"Sheez," Brozek said. "Hacker-guy is getting
a little aggressive, don't you think? First the letter. Now
this."

"Aggressive and maybe desperate." Dillon ran
his fingers through his hair. "But why does he have it in for
Claire?"

"No telling. He's a wacko, that's for
sure."

Dillon stood. "Start the trace. See if it
came out of e*Claire's."

"Way ahead of you, buddy. I'll let you know
as soon as I find something."

Dillon climbed out of the van and hurried
down the street. The need to see Claire, hold her, possess her
overwhelmed him. He barely restrained himself from wrenching open
the door to the cybercafé.

Stay calm, Anderson. Hold it together.

Clenching his hands into fists, Dillon strode
through the cafe, nodding to Natalie behind the counter, before
turning down the hall to the offices. He told himself he'd feel
this way about any woman he was seeing. He'd want to protect any of
his clients like he wanted to protect Claire.

Yeah, right.
It wasn't Brozek running
to find Claire. Needing to find Claire.

As he passed Richard's office door, Dillon
heard Claire's voice from within. He stopped in his tracks, relief
filling him with the knowledge that she was close. He shouldn't
interrupt if she was in the middle of business. Just as he was
about to turn and walk away, Claire's voice rose a notch.

"Oh, Richard! I never would have guessed you
were capable of something like this."

"You were not supposed to find out,
mademoiselle
. You have ruined everything."

The hairs on Dillon's neck bristled again. He
didn't like the man's tone.

"Nothing's ruined," Claire said. "I won't
tell a soul, I promise."

For a minute, Dillon couldn't believe what he
was hearing. Had he been wrong about Pierre? About Claire? No, not
Claire. Never Claire. But Pierre was a different story. He leaned
closer to the door, his hand on the knob.

"That is not good enough," the chef said
angrily. "It is finished. I am afraid you will have to pay."

All of Dillon's training and experience
nearly flew out the window with his need to protect Claire. Nearly,
but thankfully not completely. His hand tightened on the
doorknob.

A scuffling sounded inside the office. Papers
rustled. Something fell with a thud onto the floor.

In that split second before opening the door,
Dillon reminded himself that Pierre was an unlikely suspect and if
he barged in with his gun drawn, he would blow his cover and
jeopardize the case. And if the man was guilty, Dillon's sudden
intrusion would endanger Claire even more.

He waited another heartbeat, then eased open
the door. Claire and Richard stood in front of his desk. They both
turned as Dillon entered the office.

"It's you!" Richard spread his arms wide on
either side of his body, trying to keep Dillon from seeing whatever
was on his desk.

Ignoring the little Frenchman, Dillon ran a
quick eye over Claire. "You all right?"

"Yes, of course." Twin spots of color stained
her pale cheeks. Dillon wondered if she was embarrassed about last
night. Women sometimes acted funny about sex. Or maybe she had
regrets. He hoped she didn't have regrets, because he sure as hell
didn't. He wanted a repeat performance. As soon as possible.

"What's going on here?" Dillon moved forward
into the room. He tore his gaze from Claire and focused his
attention on the chef.

"It's none of your
affaire
," Richard
said. "Please remove yourself from my office. I do not care to have
you in here."

"Pipe down, Pierre." He tried to see what was
on the desk, but the man countered every move with his body,
frustrating Dillon's attempts. He could bodily move him out of the
way, but decided against it. Claire wouldn't like that at all.

"
Mademoiselle
! Please!" Richard turned
to his employer, clasping his hands together beseechingly.

"All right. We'll discuss this later." Claire
grabbed Dillon's arm, hauled him into the hall and slammed the door
behind them. She immediately released him and stood staring at the
floor.

Too many thoughts chased inside Dillon's
brain as he looked at Claire's bent head. Memories of last night
intruded over the frustrations of the case. He wanted to pull her
into his arms, feel her soft curves against him again. He wanted to
assure himself she was safe. Make sure she stayed safe.

He smoothed the silky hair over her shoulder,
ran a finger up her neck, across her cheek, lingered beneath the
determined chin and tilted her head until her eyes met his.

"We need to talk."

She didn't say anything, only searched his
face. Looking for what, Dillon didn't know.

Claire swallowed. "Is my office okay?"

He gently squeezed her chin before letting
go. "Lead the way."

After he closed the door, Dillon forced
himself not to haul her into his arms. Instead, he sank into a
chair after Claire sat down at her desk.

"Want to tell me what Pierre's up to?"

Claire's smile hit him full force. She folded
her hands on top of the desk, her big brown eyes shining with
laughter and mischief. "Well, he's definitely not the hacker."

"You sure?"

"Oh, yeah. I'm sure."

"So what's the big secret?"

"I can't tell you. I really didn't see much.
But it has to do with the anniversary celebration. You'll have to
trust me."

Trust didn't come easily for Dillon.
Especially when it concerned women. Claire had asked him to trust
her the first time they'd met. Impossible then. But now? He would
trust her on this, but nothing else.

"All right," Dillon said. "But it sounded
like he was threatening you. Something about you paying--?"

"Oh, that," Claire said. "Richard thinks I've
ruined his surprise and I'll still have to pay for the supplies and
such. No big deal. I'll reassure him that I don't really know what
he's up to. That his secret is still safe."